24 May 2007

Yesterday, Miss M. said to me: "I drank from your deese* when I was two". Yeah, two and 364 days. She last nursed the night before she turned three.

I never expected to have an extended nurser. I thought, maybe six months, maybe a year. Never thought it would be three years. Especially with the way things started. But I wanted to feed breastmilk to my child, and I got into the habit of pumping, and so I was able to give her predominantly breast milk for her whole first year. And somewhere in there, she figured out how to nurse, and that it was nice. And she'd nurse before bed, and in the middle of the night, and first thing in the morning, and when she fell down and needed comfort. And so, when I stopped pumping, and she stopped getting milk in bottles, she kept nursing. And I thought, we'll stop after her surgery**. And then I thought, we'll stop after she starts daycare***. Then there was some other reason. And another. And gradually she was down to just the nursing at bedtime.

We started talking about her impending third birthday, and I gradually introduced the idea that three year olds don't nurse. And she said, "yes, when I'm three, no more deese." And we talked about it every night. And the night before her third birthday was the last time. She did keep asking for awhile. And did say "I don't want to be three". But it's now six months later, and it's now something she did when she was two. Yes, I'm a little wistful sometimes. But I'm also happy that we did nurse for so long.

* I can't explain "deese". I think that's how it's spelled. It's what Miss M. called it - both the act of nursing, and the breasts themselves. Go figure.

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I feel funny about admitting it, but I have mixed emotions about breastfeeding. On the one hand, I do very much want to do it for 6-9 months, maybe a year. I believe in the health benefits and, of course, our bodies were designed to do it. On the other hand, though, I've always needed a lot of personal space, so I wonder how I'll feel about having someone stuck to me all the time. I guess it's one of those things I'll have to wait and see about.

My son is three months old, and I think the main thing I didn't understand before he was born was that breastfeeding is about much more than giving your child food. It's a very special experience for both mother and child. So when my husband asked me recently when I thought I might wean him, all I could say was "I don't know. Definitely before he starts Kindergarten!"

Yep, it just happens that way! I nursed my last one for two and a half years. I finally stopped when I had to start a medication that wouldn't clear my system and might really hurt him. But it was time. Oh, lordy, it was time.

He's still pretty obsessed with my "nursies." Always reaching across or down my shirt. It's like being on a bad date sometimes.

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It's a journal, a scrapbook, a record of my kid growing up. It's about food, it's about the pleasures of gardening. It's where I wear my heart on my sleeve, play with words and rail at the world. It's where I muse, and where I indulge my inner magpie. I have two horrible cats and not enough time to read.
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